He picked it up and looked into the mirror. It seemed as though the man reflected there was older than he should have been. “This is Hawkins.” The voice on the other end was female and sounded thin as if the connection could fail at any moment. “Hawk? Moller here…. We have a problem.” The customs agent wished he had already had a cup of coffee but hadn’t. Moller and her partner had been detailed to keep an eye on Joe Chow. Problems, if any, could stem from the nature of the assignment, their relative lack of experience, or bad luck. “Okay,” Hawkins said stolidly. “Shoot.” She may have been a newbie but Moller knew better than to mention names on an unscrambled cell phone call. “The subject took off up Highway 2 towards Stevens Pass. A second vehicle joined him in Monroe. We estimate seven or eight subjects total. There’s no way to be sure what they’re up to but it doesn’t look like a snowboarding expedition.” “Roger that,” Hawkins said, his mind racing.
